He did offer me a slight tip of his head, though, which was more than I could say for most of my current company. Rory smiled at me, of course, and Noah quirked his eyebrows, but the others all looked pretty somber about the proceedings.
I’d have worried about that in spite of Rory’s earlier reassurance if I hadn’t been distracted by the other person in the room who wasn’t part of the pentacle. Sitting stiffly on a chair between the Bloodstones and the Killbrooks was the stranger with the cinnamon-brown hair and the leather gloves I’d noticed on the green yesterday. Presumably he wasn’t some long-lost relative of one of the baronies, or he’d have been seated with his family. Why was he here to listen in on whatever business the pentacle had with me?
Before I could wonder much about any of that, Rory motioned me forward. “Come on in and take a seat, Cressida.”
A few low armchairs stood in a row near the door. I took the one on the left, sinking gingerly onto the firm cushion. The room was way too quiet with all those gazes fixed on me, no sound but the faint creak of Jude’s chair and a momentary rustling of papers. I folded my hands in my lap, willing my heart not to jump out of my chest and waiting for them to tell me what the hell this was all about.
What if my parents’ latest trick had convinced them it was too dangerous having me here on campus? Nothing had been hurt except my dignity, but it wasn’t great that Mom and Dad had managed to arrange for a student in the grips of their persuasion to make it onto campus with their “gift.” I’d joked to Rory about her taking me with her when she left, but I didn’t actually know where I’d go if I had to leave. I’d counted on having a few more months to figure that out. All of the Warbury properties were closed to me now.
Malcolm leaned forward first, his dark eyes intent beneath his short golden-brown curls. Having seen the Nightwood scion-now-baron’s animosity directed at plenty of other people during our school years, I sure hoped he didn’t have it in for me now.
“Do you accept that what we discuss within this room cannot be mentioned elsewhere with anyone other than those of us present?” he asked, magical energy thrumming through his voice.
The question was a contract—if I agreed, I’d be unable to mention anything that came up during this meeting to an outsider. My body balked instinctively, but the truth was, I trusted most of the people in this room a hell of a lot more than anyone else I knew. And what could be so confidential that they’d take that measure and also involve me?
“I accept,” I said. The magic of the contract shivered down my throat and through my collarbone.
Declan Ashgrave picked up the thread as if on cue. I guessed as the scion who’d been acting baron for years longer than anyone else in the room, it made sense that he’d take the lead. “It’s come to our attention that some of the families who conspired with the former barons—the people who called themselves ‘reapers’—have a plan underway that’s meant to undermine the new pentacle,” he said evenly. “Do you know anything about that?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t say I was surprised by it either. The families who were shunning the new barons obviously meant to do something other than just ignore the current status quo for all eternity. As many criticisms as I could have made about my own parents and their friends, they weren’t the types to simply sit on their hands and whine.
Declan hadn’t added any magical persuasion to his question, so he must have trusted me to answer truthfully. I shook my head. “I haven’t been in touch with anyone from outside of the school in ages—well, except Victory Blighthaven, but she’s definitely not involved with the reapers.”
Even my own family hadn’t officially considered themselves part of that bunch. They’d sided with the reaper families and the old barons when they’d needed to declare allegiances, but my parents didn’t agree with any strategy that involved playing lackey in the hopes of gaining favor. You can command respect or grovel for scraps, Mom liked to say. The right choice is clear.
Jude let his chair settle back on the floor with a rap of the front legs. “And except for nasty letters from home like that one yesterday?” he said in a breezy tone.
My lips twisted into a grimace. The whole campus probably knew about yesterday’s incident by now. “And those. But I just ignore them.” I had to clench my hand before it followed the urge to touch my scratched cheek.
Connar frowned, his muscular shoulders flexing. He glanced around at the rest of the pentacle. “We’ve got to improve campus security. Spells like that shouldn’t be getting through.”
Rory nodded. “I’m sure there are ways we can bolster our defenses.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You can’t catch everything. They’re just trying to embarrass me as much as they can.” And they were succeeding decently well.
“Their ploy may have worked out in our favor after all.” Hector Killbrook, the oldest baron in the room by at least twenty years, motioned to the cinnamon-haired guy sitting near his desk. “This young man has brought the matter of the reapers to our attention. Emeric was also inspired by yesterday’s unfortunate event to suggest that you might be able to play a key role in interrupting whatever schemes these people have in the works.”
He’d been inspired, had he? I gave the guy—Emeric?—a sharp look, trying to figure out if I did recognize him from somewhere that just hadn’t occurred to me right off the bat, but as far as I could tell, I didn’t know him at all. He’d probably graduated from the university before I’d even moved to senior classes. Junior and senior students didn’t mingle a whole lot.
Emeric shifted on his chair as if uncomfortable having our attention focused on him. He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It was only an idea.”
“A good one,” Malcolm said. He turned back to me. “With Emeric under the influence of persuasion, he and I had a little chat. He’s from one of the less prominent reaper families, but as far as I can tell, he’s come to us with honest motives. The reapers haven’t been looping his family in on their plans, so he figured they’re better off throwing their lot in with us.” The hint of an edge in his voice gave me the impression that he didn’t think all that highly of those motives, honest or not.
Emeric clearly caught that edge too. His stance tensed defensively, and his low voice came out a bit gruff. “We fought on the side of the former barons out of fear more than because we believed in what they were doing. I hope we can make amends for that mistake.”
“A lot of people fought with the old barons,” Rory said, with a glance at Malcolm that looked like a rebuke. “We’re not going to hold that against anyone who genuinely wants to stand with us now.”
I still wasn’t following why I was there. “How do I factor in?” I asked.
Declan tipped his head to Emeric as if to say, Go on. The guy sat up straighter.
“We’ve heard murmurs around town—we live in Portland, Maine—but no one has let any major details slip around us. I could try to convince the other families to loop me in more, but we didn’t have much clout to begin with, and now that my younger sister is back attending classes at the university and everything… As far as I know, your family isn’t directly involved, but they are hugely respected and known to be loyalists.”